In the Shadows
by Phoenix Call
Summary: Dark Moon lives Hell. James Potter doesn't know pain. Sirius Black hates his family. Lily Evans is just an ordinary girl. In just two chance meetings, their lives will turn completely upside down and the adventure wil begin. Rated T for violence later AU
1. Dark Moon and a Firecracker

**_AN: _Hello everyone! This is my second fanfic that I have currently been stuck on which is why I haven't updated my other one recently (sorry). But anyways, I have the first three chapters done and I hope you enjoy them!**

**This story was inspired by Princess Marauders' The Underground however, the plot is completely my own and so are all of the OC's.**

**_Here's some background information for you:_ This story is completely Au and takes place during the Marauders' Era, the summer after their graduation. Sirius, James, and Peter never met Remus Lupin and the Marauders never became animagi, though they do still come up with nicknames for eachother. I know Moody didn't have his magic eye yet, but I really wanted to put that in anyway, cause it's Moody's defining feature, so I took some artistic liscence. :)**

**Anyway, enough rambling and on to the story! Please tell me what you think. Enjoy! :)**

**Disclaimer: **Last I checked I had brown hair, no money, and am American. Last I checked J K Rowling was blonde, rich with a capital R, and British. Needless to say I am not J K Rowling and do not own Harry Potter (sadly)

_Chapter 1_

~***Dark Moon and a Firecracker***~

The night was still young and the crescent moon still high in the sky as a teenage boy walked quickly and quietly through the forest. Silvery moonlight splashed across the forest floor illuminating the leaf mould in different sized patches. The boy wove in and out of the moonlight as silently as the breeze. He seemed to be in a hurry. The boy leapt across a small, gurgling stream, and dodged a bramble bush. Leaping over a fallen log, he scrambled gracefully up a steep incline. In seconds, he reached the crest of the cliff which dropped down a mere eight feet into a brightly-lit clearing. A fast-flowing river sliced through the clearing. On the other side was a higher cliff-face that looked to the average passerby to be large, dark, and imposing. It held an ominous aura about it that drove travellers away from the otherwise beautiful clearing.

The teenager halted at the crest of the cliff and stared at the imposing cliff-face with shining gold eyes that had seen far too much in their short life. He surreptitiously fingered the long silver-bladed knife that hung at his waist. He felt the familiar knot form in the pit of his stomach. He hated this clearing, he hated his life, but most of all, he hated that cliff like he hated Hell.

From all outward appearances, the boy seemed rather normal, if not a bit mysterious and secretive. He wore tattered brown pants and a black t-shirt. Under the t-shirt, he sported a long-sleeved gray shirt that covered his arms right down to his black gloves which had their finger-tips cut off. His hair was a sandy-brown and contained a few strands of prematurely gray hairs. In certain light, the three pale, silvery scars that ran across his face could be seen. He wore shabby, brown boots, and his pants were held up by a worn, leather belt. The knife he carried could not be seen except by those who knew he carried it.

He was the sort of boy that would gain an odd look or two on the street but never a second glance. Most people passed him by without ever paying much mind. And even stranger was the fact that this pleased the boy. He hated gaining any unwanted attention and preferred to remain as inconspicuous as possible. However, this was not the only thing that made the teenager strange. He was probably the farthest thing from normal. Why?

First of all, he had no real home. His parents had been murdered but three years prior and his house burned to the ground. Secondly, the boy had no real friends. The people, if people you could call them, that he lived with, he could hardly consider friends. He ignored most of them and wanted nothing to do with them, except when he gave orders, and they ignored him. It was a rather effective process. Not to mention the fact that most all he lived with feared him. That was another thing that set him apart. He was feared by many, even those of his own kind.

He was also a wizard. Ever since he was small, his parents had taught him about magic. He had learned seven years of magic in four years and had gone on to learn things far beyond the ordinary witch or wizard. He had shown himself to be both powerful and talented and a great force to be reckoned with. It was no wonder he was so feared among his people. However, this was not the thing that set him apart the most.

He was not even normal by wizard standards. In fact, fear and prejudice had driven him to be shunned by the wizarding world. Though he was far more talented and skilled than most wizards and witches, he could never hold a job. No one would ever want to associate with him let alone offer him paid work. The reason for this was simple.

He was a werewolf.

The boy watched the moon climb higher with narrowing eyes. As much as he knew he must, he did not want to approach the cliff face. It was not that he feared the cliff itself. No, the young werewolf feared very little. It was what was behind the cliff, the secret it held, that he feared. For the cliff was one of the many hidden entrances to the labyrinth of tunnels and caves that snaked throughout Great Britain and housed those werewolves who chose to live away from normal wizards and witches. These tunnels were swarmed with packs and loners from all parts of England, Ireland, and Scotland. This place, this safe haven, was hidden from normal wizards. Only those who were cursed to live the half-life of a werewolf could enter its depths. This was where the teenager had spent the last three years of his life. This was the Underground.

The boy shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot. He didn't stay in the Underground out of choice. He hated that place like he hated Hell. It had not been his choice to come to the Underground in the first place. No. It had been Greyback, Fenrir Greyback, the most terrible, bloodthirsty, savage, ruthless, cunning, contentious werewolf of the 20th century. It was Greyback who had bitten the boy when he had been a mere four years old, Greyback who returned eleven years later, savage and hungry, and had murdered both the teenager's parents and burnt his house to the ground. It was Greyback who had dragged the boy away to the Underground where he would spend the next three years of his tortured existence. It was Greyback who had ruined his life, taken away not only his family, home, friends, and freedom, but also his childhood and any chance for a future.

He hated Greyback. He hated him so much. Yet the boy was cursed to be a member of the monster's pack, cursed to live with those ferocious beings, cursed to live in the Underground, a place of nightmares. But he couldn't leave. If he did, Greyback would know. He would come after him, and no matter what, the teenager knew the older werewolf _would_ find him…and he would not be merciful.

Ever since he had been forcefully admitted into Greyback's pack, he had been forced to discard his old identity. No one in the pack but Greyback and the boy knew his birth name. To all others he was known by his pack name, Dark Moon.

Through the years, Dark Moon had shown himself to be powerful, cunning, and an invaluable part of the pack. Not only this, but Greyback noticed that the others had come to fear the young werewolf and would do almost whatever he said. Greyback appointed the boy his second in command only a year after his admittance, and he had proven to be a priceless leader.

However, many questioned Greyback's appointment of his second-in-command. Dark Moon was powerful, yes, strong, cunning, and clever, but he was unlike most of the werewolves in Greyback's pack, the complete polar opposite of Greyback himself…he valued human life. Greyback was ruthless and bloodthirsty, a monster to behold, even in his human form. However, Dark Moon was different. Unlike Greyback, he did not give the wolf inside him free reign of his body between the full moons. He kept his personality, his morals, his love of human life. He did not want to be a monster; he did not want to be like Greyback. This set him apart from his fellows in the pack. It's what made him…human.

However, though Greyback knew of his second-in-command's love of human life and his controlled personality, the Alpha knew he could find no one better to fill this position. Greyback believed it was best to rule through fear. The pack certainly feared Dark Moon, almost as much as they feared Greyback himself, and he knew this was invaluable. The pack was growing. They were gaining more werewolves in numbers greater than ever before. The Alpha could not be everywhere at once. He needed a strong, powerful, and feared leader to help him keep the pack in check. For these reasons, he kept Dark Moon in such a position of power.

Greyback had no idea, however, that his second in command had been using this blind faith and power in order to spirit newly turned and captured children or desperate-to-flee werewolves away to another pack, a pack whose Alpha stood for everything Greyback hated. The Alpha's name was Almach. And in his pack flowed the one thing vital to the strongest pack, the one thing Greback was missing…love. Love, trust, camaraderie…these were all traits that were lacking in Greyback's pack that made Almach and his pack, though smaller, a true force to be reckoned with, an almost unbreakable power in the Underground. Almach was said to be the only werewolf Greyback had ever feared.

Dark Moon knew that if word of what he was doing slipped to Greyback's ears, he would not be the only one to pay. He could not let this happen. This was why his secret operations were carried out with the most meticulous planning. If even the smallest thing were to go not as planned, the entire operation could be revealed. Dark Moon was eternally thankful that he was such a good wizard, for he knew he would not have been able to carry out his mission otherwise.

Dark Moon sighed heavily. He didn't want to return to the Underground…to the pack…to Greyback. But he had to. If he didn't, Greyback would grow suspicious and he would be hunted. A hunted werewolf under Greyback's command usually didn't make it out on the other end. Though, as second-in-command, Dark Moon was not subjected to the same strict curfews set down for the other pack members, he could not completely come and go as he pleased. He had to return every night at at least a decent hour, or Greyback would become suspicious. And the last thing Dark Moon, Almach, and their operation needed was a suspicious Greyback dogging the key executioner's every step. Their mission could be exposed, and he knew he couldn't risk that, _ever_. Dark Moon knew the fire with which he was playing. He was acting the part of a spy and a traitor. If he was caught, he would be dealt with as such. However, the teenager was willing to take the risks, _anything_ to help others escape the same terrible fate into which he had been so unmercifully plunged. He had made this his life's mission. And he would not let his mission be uncovered.

With a heavy heart and a weary mind, the teenage boy dropped down from the small cliff landing gracefully on all fours. Crossing the river, he approached the high, jagged cliff face. _Here we go again_, he thought, taking a deep breath. He walked confidently towards the seemingly solid cliff face. He had the strange sensation of being plunged into a lake of freezing cold water as he passed through the rock. When the sensation disappeared, he was in a dark, narrow passage with jagged earthen walls that snaked off into the distance. The Underground.

* * *

><p>James Potter sat in the sitting room of Number 26 Cobblestone Lane, rifling through the sheaf of papers in his hands. He ran a hand through his already messy, black hair and pushed his round glasses up further on his nose. He quickly scanned each page trying to remember a time in which he had been more bored. It's not that James didn't like his work, but countless hours of reading through plans and maps and rolls of parchment filled completely with useless information was really getting to him. He was never one to be seen in the library of Hogwarts researching and studying for tests, and now was no different.<p>

James closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. This was definitely not how he had been planning to spend the first few months of school-free summer. He and his best friend Sirius Black had resolved years ago that after they graduated, they'd spend their first summer away going on adventures and wreaking havoc in the world. James let out a dry laugh. The last thing he had been expecting was to be stuck in the sitting room of a house that wasn't his doing research for an organization created by the Hogwarts headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Sirius's suggestion couldn't have been further from the sad truth.

James, deciding it was time to take a short break and stretch his legs, set down the papers he had been reading on the couch and rose to his feet, stretching his arms and legs, joints popping loudly. The sitting room that had once been warm and welcoming was currently strewn witch mountains of paper, rolls of parchment, and old, leather-bound books with yellowing pages. Scrolls of parchment were poised precariously around various locations in the room, threatening to topple onto the heads of passersby. Ancient and recent maps were spread out across previously bare surfaces, on tables, across couch cushions, in random points on the floor, and some were even charmed to the walls with pins and ink marking certain areas. It was no wonder that those passing through the house in the past months wisely avoided the sitting room at all costs.

James waded his way through the mess of papers and parchment littering the floor, careful not to bump into any of the carefully arranged stacks for fear of creating an avalanche. Wrestling himself free of a few scrolls, he stepped out of the sitting room, closing the door behind him, and made his way into the kitchen. The teenager rummaged through the contents of the cupboard on the far side and pulled out a large flagon of butterbeer and a glass tankard. Taking an apple from the fruit bowl, he made his way to the kitchen table and poured himself a tankard of the delicious amber liquid. James took a swig of butterbeer and let out a contented sigh as the delectable drink trickled down his parched throat, refreshing him.

"So, the hermit has emerged!"

James jumped and spun around. "Padfoot!" he said in surprised glee, not having noticed his best friend's entrance.

"Hey, Prongsie," said black-haired, grey eyed Sirius Black as he made his way over to the table dropping an armful of shopping bags on it as he passed. James had to stop his eyebrows from creeping up to meet his hairline.

"You went…_shopping_, Padfoot?" The bespeckled teen couldn't keep the smile out of his words.

"Order business," said Sirius dismissively, failing to keep a slight bitter tone from creeping into his voice.

James laughed. "You know, when I heard you telling Dumledore you wanted to go off on some secret mission or whatever, I certainly wasn't expecting you to stake out the nearest grocery store."

Sirius growled at his laughing friend. "I hate shopping."

"We know, Pads."

Sirius moved over to the kitchen and grabbed himself a glass tankard from the far cabinet, plopping down in a chair beside his friend. James poured the teenager some butterbeer before taking a swig from his own tankard. The boys sat in silence for a few moments, both consumed in their own thoughts before Sirius final spoke up, setting his tankard on the table and leaning back in the wooden kitchen chair.

"So, Prongsie, speaking of secret missions, how's your lovely research going?" he asked, an amused glint in his eye.

James groaned audibly. "There's a reason I always hated the library," he said by way of explanation.

Sirius let out a loud, bark-like laugh. "I must say, I do not envy your 'mission' in the least."

The messy-haired teen shot his friend an annoyed glare. "At least I'm not sent to do women's jobs," he said, eyeing the groceries. It was Sirius's turn to glare. There was a moment's silence between the two boys as they both basked in the light of their in content.

"Speaking of women," said Sirius slowly, "how's your Lily-flower?"

"What was that about me?"

The two boys whipped around to see a smirking Lily Evans standing in the doorway. She looked as read-headed and dangerous to cross as ever.

"Lily!" cried James happily.

"Hello James," she said, making her way over to her boyfriend. She planted a kiss on James's cheek before pulling up a seat next to him and across from Sirius. Lily deposited the stack of books in her arms on the table and turned to the two friends.

"I heard Dumbledore sent you on a 'secret mission'," she said, smirking in Sirius's direction. The boy growled and glared at his best friend's girlfriend.

"You enjoy watching us wallow in our misery, don't you, Evans," he stated, obviously annoyed. Lily just smiled at him and turned to her boyfriend.

"Finished with the research, James?"

"I wish," groaned James, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. Sirius sniggered.

"You know, Black," said Lily conversationally, standing up and peering into the grocery bags, "ice cream melts. And meat usually goes bad if you keep it out of the fridge for too long."

Sirius growled and reluctantly began to put away the groceries as an amused Lily Evans stood by and watched as he tried to figure out what foods went where.

"Is the pampered aristocrat having an itty-bit of trouble?" Lily smirked innocently.

Sirius did not attempt to hide his annoyance. "This is a house-elf's job," he grumbled while Lily berated him on putting lettuce in the freezer and milk in the cupboard.

"No, Black, it's the job of any self-sufficient human being who wants to survive through the week," she smirked in response. Sirius murmured something under his breath about women and their 'crap-sense' of humor which earned a silencing charm from Lily.

"If you can't clean your mouth out, then it's better for our health and yours that you can't talk for a bit." Sirius stuck his tongue out at her after realizing that cursing at the top of his lungs wouldn't work since no sound came out. He shot a glare at his best friend who was silently laughing at the two's antics. James finally composed himself and turned to the red-head.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but what are you doing here?"

"There's an Order meeting in," she checked her watch, "seven minutes. Dumbledore sent a Patronus ahead to inform all the members that are to be present."

"What?" James asked, shocked. "And no one saw fit to tell me?"

"Well, you seemed to be enjoying yourself immensely locked in that sitting room so we felt it would be a disgrace to disturb your fun…" The twinkle in her eye reminded the boy uncannily of Dumbledore when he heard that he and Sirius had charmed the doors of the greenhouse to sing "Stayin' Alive" whenever they were opened.

James glared at her. "Where's everyone else?"

"Oh, they should be wandering in any minute now."

As if on cue, the front door opened and two young men made their way into the kitchen, talking and laughing. They were both tall and lanky with fiery red hair and identical in all but their clothing. They were some seven years older than the teenagers that currently occupied the kitchen.

"Fabien! Gideon!" cried James and Lily, ecstatic at seeing their friends who had been off on some mission or other for the Order.

"Hey, James, Firecracker," they said as one as they grabbed seats at the kitchen table.

"How are you guys?" asked James. Lily and Sirius made their way across the room and sat down with the other three.

"Good, good…" said Gideon offhandedly. Both twins were looking at Sirius strangely.

"Say, Jamesie –" began Fabien.

"– what's up with Siri," finished Gideon.

"He's so –"

"– quiet!" they finished together. The twins' back-and-forth speech was something that set them apart from most others. Some found the fact that the two could finish each other's sentences quite endearing. Others found it confusing or annoying. Others like Dumbledore and the three teenagers found it somewhat amusing.

"Not that we're complaining –"

"– we could really get used to –"

"– not having to put up with –"

"– his annoying –"

"– little voice."

Sirius glared at the two older men. He was quite annoyed with their obvious amusement. "Apparently he said something and Lily-flower got a bit annoyed," James said by way of explanation through his over-large smile.

"Ah," said Gideon in understanding. "There's a reason –"

"– you don't upset –"

"– a Firecracker!" The twins smiled brightly.

Lily tried to look annoyed, but the smile tugging at the corner of her lips belied her true feelings. It was just impossible to be angry with the twins. Even when they put nasty itching hexes on your undergarments that lasted for three whole days. Well, perhaps it was possible to be angry about _that_, but the anger would soon wear off and one could not help but laugh along with the young men at the ingeniousness of the prank.

When the twins had first come up with their nickname for Lily, she had been slightly annoyed. However, she couldn't help but agree that it was quite fitting. With her flaming red hair, fiery temper, and her nastily good charm-work, she was in every way a firecracker just waiting to be ignited and explode in a flourish of colors and jinxes that would send a grown man running for cover. They were right; there was a reason you didn't cross Lily Evans, something James and Sirius knew better than anyone else.

The door opened again and in sauntered two more teenagers. One was the same age as the new graduates. She had red-blonde hair, a somewhat round face, and fierce blue eyes. The girl was skinny and slightly petite. The other was a boy a year older. He was almost as tall as the twins with broad shoulders and wavy, chocolate-brown hair.

"Frank!" cried James just as Lily and the twins cried, "Alice!"

Lily hurried over to her best friend and the two embraced, laughing and chatting away. "I haven't seen you since Graduation! How is everything…"

The boys and men left the girls to their discussion of girly things and Frank took a seat at the table with the others.

"Hiya, Frankie," the twins chorused.

"Fabien, Gideon," he acknowledged, smiling.

"So, Frank, how goes auror training?" James asked, surveying his friend. Frank, however, was staring at Sirius, a strange expression crossing his face. "What's up with –"

"– Sirius," James finished, smiling broadly at his best friend. Sirius stuck his tongue out. "Well, he said something Lily didn't like and –"

"– she got angry," Frank finished. It was not a question. Everyone in the Order was familiar with Lily's infamous temper and being the boyfriend of Alice Prewett, Lily's best friend, he was exposed to it more than most.

"You guessed it!" The twins were having far too much fun poking fun at Sirius's inability to talk. It was highly amusing to say the least.

"So, back to the question. How's –"

"– auror training going," finished Frank.

"Wow, and people think –"

"– it's scary when –"

"– _we_ finish each other's' –"

"– sentences."

"Do you two honestly try to be annoying, or does it just come naturally." Alice made her way over to the table closely followed by a smiling Lily.

"We like to think of it as a God given talent, couskins," Gideon answered reverently.

Alice rolled her eyes. "I don't know how Molly puts up with the two of you."

"Aw, you know you love us!" Fabien smiled broadly at his cousin.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Somewhere _deep_, deep down where no one can find it."

The twins pouted. "You don't play fair," they whined.

"I play it like a Prewett," she stated flatly, "and Prewetts _never_ play fair."

The twins stuck out their tongues at their cousin, but wisely kept their mouths shut.

"_So_," James cut in. "How's auror training, you two?"

"It's going quite well, actually," stated Frank. "One more year of training and I'll be out of the trainee status, though I'll still have to work alongside Moody."

"Still have two more years," Alice sighed dejectedly. The table erupted into laughter at the sight of her face.

"At least you're not holed up in some sitting room doing mountains of research for God-knows-what," James stated.

The laughter increased ten-fold as they remembered James's 'secret mission'. They had all accidentally walked into the sitting room at some point or other and witnessed the spectacle that was James's research.

"This is probably Dumbledore's idea of payback for all the years of misery you and your friend put the staff through," said Frank.

"Dumbledore wouldn't be _that_ cruel!" James cried, exasperated at the thought. But, suddenly, it all made sense to him. This was definitely a Dumbledore thing to do.

"Making you do research –"

"– sending Sirius to get groceries –"

"– dunno, mate –"

"– sounds like Dumbledore to me."

"And by 'me' he really means 'us'," Alice put in.

"You know us so well, Miss Prewett," smiled Fabien.

"I must inquire as to why," added Gideon.

"Oh, you know," stated Alice leaning back. "I'm only your _cousin _after all." She sounded for all the world as if she wished that it weren't true.

The door suddenly burst open and in walked Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody followed by Marlene Mckinnon. Moody was strict and frizzled with greying hair, a peg leg, and a magical eyeball that did not seem to want to fix itself on any point in the room. His clothes were rumpled and a chunk was missing from his nose. The auror carried a wooden staff which complimented his wooden leg. A flask hung from his hip. Moody was probably the most well-known, well-respected auror of all time. He was extremely paranoid and a permanent scowl was etched across his already scarred and grizzled features. Moody was definitely not one to cross.

Marlene Mckinnon was only a few years the graduates' senior. She was tall and skinny with flowing brown hair and deep, chocolate-colored eyes. Her elegant features stood out in sharp contrast with those of Moody. She walked with an unparalleled grace. She was a qualified auror as of two years prior and had a lively exuberant personality. However, when provoked, she could be as dangerous as a hungry Hungarian Horntail that had just spotted its first meal in three days.

The two were fellow aurors, Marlene having been trained by Moody himself, and had formed a fast friendship. She was one of the few people alive who could poke fun at Moody and live to tell the tale. Together, they were a great force to be reckoned with. They fought alongside each other in many a battle and never had there been such a pair. Their side-by-side dueling prowess could be rivaled only by that of the Prewett twins.

The two aurors entered the kitchen. Moody growled at the occupants and took up a position against the wall by the cupboard, taking a swig from his hip flask. Marlene stopped gracefully in the doorway. "Hello everyone," she said in a cheery voice.

"Hello Marlene," chorused the others, smiling broadly at the woman. Marlene was always fun to be around. All the Order enjoyed her company.

"How are you children?" she asked cheerily, taking the seat on the far side of the table, across from James.

"Oi!" the twins shouted. "We're older than you!"

"I was speaking about mental age, not physical," Marlene stated, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The twins grumbled and moved away from the table and struck up a conversation with Moody.

"We're doing fine," said Lily, smiling. "James is still being drowned in truckloads of parchment and books, Sirius is still fetching groceries and the like, and I started Healer training a couple months ago."

Marlene was looking from the amused James, to the jovial Lily, to the angry and annoyed Sirius. "I take it something happened before I arrived?" Ever the observant one, she hit the hammer on the nail.

"Lily got angry," James stated plainly.

"Say no more," said Marlene smiling. "But you might want to take that silencing charm off of Sirius when Dumbledore gets here so he can participate in the meeting.

"Don't worry," piped Alice. "We might actually be able to get something done without Black constantly interrupting."

Marlene's laugh was musical and contagious. "Too true, Alice; too true." Sirius glared at the newcomer, his annoyance increasing tenfold.

"Where's Dumbledore?" asked Frank, suddenly, glancing at his wristwatch. "He's never one to be late to his own meetings."

"Right you are, Mr. Longbottom."

The occupants of the kitchen turned to the door, not having heard the Headmaster's entrance. Moody looked a bit unnerved by this as it was common knowledge that he never let anyone sneak up behind him.

Albus Dumbledore was a tall, cheery man, though obviously old, always emitted a feeling of great youth and energy. He wore midnight blue robes flecked with numerous silver stars. His Silver beard went down to his waist, and his hair was cut off just below his shoulder blades. His pointed wizard's hat matched his elegant robes. He peered at those in the room with twinkling, clear-blue eyes. Perched on the bridge of his known were his half-moon spectacles he always wore.

Dumbledore smiled at the Order members gathered in the kitchen. "Thank you all for being here. I am sorry the message was short-notice, but a matter of urgency has just reached my ears and I had to act quickly."

The tone of the room became suddenly serious. The younger men and women shot each other concerned, questioning glances. What could be so important that Dumbledore had to call an unscheduled meeting of only a few of the Order? Certainly not another death…right?

Dumbledore looked around and clapped his hands. "Well then," he said cheerily. "I would invite you all into the sitting room but seeing as ours is currently buried under a mountain of parchment and books, that might not be the best place for us to meet." He looked at James when he said this, the twinkle back in the old man's eye.

James tried his best not to scowl at his former headmaster. Frank was right; this was Dumbledore's cruel idea of payback. However, he had to admit, the old man was certainly ingenious in his strategies. He had given him the one punishment that would truly push him beyond the limits of his sanity without causing physical pain to himself or anyone else.

"Let us go upstairs to the meeting room, then, so we can discuss this urgent matter." There was the sound of chairs scraping against wood as the Order members got up and made their way towards the door. "And, Miss Evans," said Dumbledore cheerily, "you might want to take off that silencing charm you placed on Mr. Black. While I, too, enjoy the blessed silence gained from this, Mr. Black will need to be heard so he may participate in the meeting along with the rest."

Lily reluctantly took out her wand and cast the counter-charm.

"Thank God!" yelled Sirius, thankful that, at least, he could hear his own voice. The rest of the room groaned. Dumbledore merely chuckled.

"To the meeting room, please."

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><p><strong>AN: So, what did you think?<strong>


	2. Of Werewolves and Darkness

**AN: So, hello everyone! Here's the next chapter of the story up for you. Do to the incoming hurricane Irene, I might not be able to update for a bit, but enjoy!**

**A special thanks to Charlie300895 for being awesome and actually liking my story enough to subscribe. :D**

**As always PLEASE REVIEW! I'm a relatively new writer and I really like feedback to know if I'm doing well and people are actually liking what I'm writing.**

**Anyways, enough talk and onto the story! Enjoy. :)**

**Disclaimer:** Refer to previous chapter

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 2<em>

~***Of Werewolves and Darkness***~

Once all were seated in chairs around the medium-sized, upstairs room, Dumbledore closed the door and cast a silencing charm on the room. This surprised the others. The house in which they were situated, which was in fact the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, could not be found or entered by anyone outside of the Order. This meant that Dumbledore intended to keep this meeting secret from even other Order members. It was no wonder it had been short-notice.

Dumbledore turned to those gathered. The twinkle was gone from his eyes and his usual jolly features were grave and serious. No one dared to speak. The silence stretched on for a few moments before Dumbledore finally began to speak.

"I thank you again for coming. As you have most likely by now deduced, this meeting is for your ears only. By this I mean everything we say and do in here is not to leave our company and the confines of these four walls. Is that clear?"

There was a general murmur of ascent and many head-nods.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Now, as to the nature of this meeting; Alastor did you bring what I asked?"

Moody looked up. "Yes, Albus," he growled.

"Good," Dumbledore restated. "Would you please hold on to them until the end of the meeting?" Moody again growled his assent. "Thank you, Alastor."

Dumbledore turned back to the others. "I'm sure most of you have read the reports in the Daily Prophet of the increased number of werewolf attacks." There was ringing silence as all the occupants of the room realized what Dumbledore was saying. Once this happened, the atmosphere in the room became even graver.

"Not only are more people being bitten and dragged off, but more werewolves are disappearing by the month, without a word as to their whereabouts. Families of werewolves have been destroyed, their houses burned, but they are nowhere to be found. While the papers are not clear on the specifics, thanks to the help of some of our Ministry connections, I have learned a great deal about this problem."

Dumbledore began to slowly pace back and forth as the Order watched him, rapt with attention.

"It is my belief that the werewolf behind these attacks is none other than Fenrir Greyback." There was a growl from the corner of the room where all turned to see Moody scowling fiercely. Dumbledore continued as if nothing had happened. "As this is my hunch, I have been doing research on the possible whereabouts of Greyback and his so called 'pack'. It is near impossible to deduce where that may be as there is scant information on this werewolf and his whereabouts have always been, if anything, elusive. Sightings of Greyback are few and far between and in such distant locations from each other that no one knows where he could possibly be.

"However, through much research and observations, I have come up with three possible locations as to where he may bed down and congregate his pack." Dumbledore turned to the gathered members of the Order. "That is where you come in. I need scouts to go out and find as much information about Greyback and his whereabouts as possible. I need three teams to scour the places I believe him to be hidden in order to find his hide-away. It is my belief that Greyback intends to join Lord Voldemort and bring his pack with him. They will be an invaluable addition to Voldemort's army that we cannot afford him having. We are already outnumbered twenty to one with his Death Eaters, and more numbers in his army will only serve to weaken us more."

Dumbledore turned to James and Sirius, a slight twinkle back in his eyes. "I say you two boys have had enough of shopping and reading through ancient books and scrolls. You have proven to be useful and do your job even if you don't like what you may be put up to. For that reason, you will now be given field work."

"Yes!" cried James and Sirius together, high-fiving.

Moody growled at the two. "It's nothing to be happy about, boys. When you're out in the field you must keep constant vigilance! If you don't, it's too easy for one of them Death Eaters to drag your shiny white arses down a cliff and blast you into so many pieces we can't tell your foot from your nose and we'll never see your sorry faces again."

The two boys sobered immediately, suddenly realizing the gravity of what would be happening. Moody was right; it was just too easy for them to be blasted into oblivion, not to mention the fact that no one knew exactly where Greyback was and they could be jumped at any point in their operation. Not to mention the fact that they had no experience fighting werewolves, and very little fighting Death Eaters. They would need to be on their guard.

Dubledore cleared his throat gaining the attention of all those present. "I will be splitting you into teams of three. Each team will scour a different section of the country. Alastor."

"Aye."

"You will take your team to the Forest of Laden around Surrey. Mr. Longbottom and Miss Prewett will accompany you." Moody nodded.

"Mr. Prewett."

"Yes," chorused both twins.

"The two of you will accompany Miss Evans to the Forest of Grandure outside of Godrick's Hollow." The twins nodded their assent.

"And Miss Mckinnon."

"Yes, Albus."

"You, accompanied by the two troublemakers, will scour the forest of Scotland some miles north of the Black Lake. I trust you can keep the two in line?"

"Yes, sir." Marlene smiled.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Now that that's settled, you will meet me hear at eleven o'clock on the morrow and I will give you the rest of your instructions then. You are to come packed appropriately, but lightly, for at least a week-long venture in your given locations. Do not pack any personal items or anything that contains even the smallest bit of personal information, especially information about the Order, lest you be captured by either Greyback or Death Eaters. But for now, return to your homes and sleep tight. And remember you must – not – tell – _anyone_ where you are going. I cannot stress this _enough_."

"Yes, sir," the others chorused. James and Sirius saluted their former headmaster.

"Good," said Dumbledore lifting the silencing charm on the room and unlocking the door. "See you at eleven, then," he called after the chatting and retreating Order members. "Oh, and James, you do not have to take up your research again until further notice."

"Thank you, sir!" James whooped. Dumbledore merely chuckled and shook his head. "Ah, Alastor, that's right. Let me see those…"

Lily, James and Sirius exited the meeting room and went down the stairs. "My place?" James asked turning to his best friend and girlfriend. The two nodded and smiled and apparated away to the Potter Manor. They spent the better part of the evening discussing their mission and making preparations. They were so excited to set out; it was a while before they fell asleep that night. They couldn't wait to embark on their first ever mission for the Order; to find Greyback.

* * *

><p>Dark Moon hurried through the snaking passages of the Underground. Around him he could hear the shrieks and howls of werewolves that had gone mad, those who had lost their minds to the wolf within them. Dark Moon was used to hearing this sound, as he had lived in the Underground for three years. However, when he had been first brought here, the sounds had made him want to crawl out of his skin, giving him nightmares for weeks.<p>

The Underground was dank, dark, and musty. The smell of earth, rotting carcasses, and unwashed bodies was so strong, it was a wonder the teenager didn't throw up. Fortunately for him, he was used to the stench, and it did not aggravate his enhanced senses as much as it used to.

There was little light in the Underground. Some small packs or loners had congregated in caves along the passages and lit fires. Some caves were lit by bioluminescent rocks. Underground streams snaked their way through the Underground providing water for its occupants. Shadowy figure flitted in and out of the light cast by the fires and rocks. Most were werewolves who had lost their minds and became bloodthirsty wolves in their human form. Some had their bodies caught somewhere in between a wolf and a man. Dark Moon saw many sights that would make any Hollywood horror movie look like a toddler's show.

The young werewolf was careful not to tread over the bones and bodies that could be found in various places across the floor. Rats cowered out of the passageway as the boy strode through. Even the dirty beasts knew not to cross the teen.

Dark Moon finally approached a much-used passageway. There was no one in it at the time, which was more than he could ask for. The werewolf reached into a cleft on the side. Carefully, he pulled out a long, black, hooded cloak. The boy draped the cloak over his shoulders and fastened the catch at his neck. He pulled the hood over his head so that his face was cast into shadow. Dark Moon strode quickly forward, his black cloak billowing out behind him.

As the boy approached the rough stone archway ahead of him, his pace slowed. Wan light spilled forth from the cave mouth filling the passage with murky light. Dark Moon crept forward his feet making no sound whatsoever on the rocky ground. Coming back this late was risky for any member of Greyback's pack, even the Alpha's second-in-command. Dark Moon had had his share of Greyback's wrath to last him a lifetime and he had only been there for three years. He didn't need any more.

The boy pressed his back against the wall beside the cave mouth. Slowly craning his neck around, he peered into the cavern. The cavern was large with vast stone pillars emerging from the ground and twisting their way up to the ceiling. The ground was an assortment of rough, uneven steps. The walls of the cavern circled outward in three tiers. Each tier was barred by stalactites and stalagmites creating makeshift hallways. The mouths of dark passageways and smaller caves pockmarked the higher tiers. An underground river snaked through the far side of the cavern and disappeared into the darkness.

Two large stone pillars stood side by side on the opposite side of the cave from the door, only a small gap between them. Darkness swirled from this gap like a smooth blanket, coating the walls and the floor and any who would dare enter, which were few. Strange runes were carved across the pillars and the entrance to the gap. Two stakes were wedged into the ground on either side. Each of these stakes were decorated with a human skull. If one walked close enough to this dark void, it was rumored you could hear voices and the cries of the damned. However, none dared approach. The water of the underground river was stagnant and rancid under the shadow the pillars.

Dark Moon shivered as his eyes passed over the pillars and the dark, gaping hole between them. No light penetrated that darkness; it was absolute. The boy had seen few pass through those pillars; none ever came back. It was known as Death's Hollow, the Paths of the Dead, and the Void of the Damned among other names. To most, it was just a myth. However, to the werewolves, especially Greyback's pack, it was very real. Greyback dubbed it The Thirteenth Cell. It was where traitors, spies, and prisoners of war were cast. The werewolf knew that if his life's work was discovered, he and all those friendly to him would be cast into the dark void, never to return.

Dark Moon gulped and tore his eyes off of the frightening sight. Even after three years, looking at it made him feel small, giving him the sudden urge to bolt. Three years ago, one of the senior werewolves had played a cruel trick on him that ended with him a yard from the pillars. What he had seen and heard had driven him to near insanity. Ever since then, he never dared even go near the part of the river that separated it from the rest of the cavern.

The boy scanned the cavern nervously and carefully. Across the ground of the cavern slept the members of Greyback's pack on rags and whatever material they had found to try and cushion the ground. Some slept straight on the rock, having nothing with which to make themselves more comfortable. These were mostly new werewolves and the smaller, weaker ones who had been bullied or beaten out of their bedding from the others. Most of the werewolves slept in the cavern. The higher ranking members of the pack such as Dark Moon slept in smaller caves on one of the upper tiers away from the rest.

Finding the coast clear, the teenager stepped out from the shadows and into the cavern. The werewolf suddenly sensed danger, but it was already too late to react. The second he passed under the arch, he was grabbed from behind and a knife was placed at his throat. Dark Moon didn't dare move, feeling the bite of cold steel pressing down uncomfortably on his jugular. He didn't know what his attacker wanted. Considering his reputation in the pack, the answer was probably dead. He had no intention of bringing his death on any faster by struggling.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

* * *

><p><strong>Ooooh! A cliffhanger! I'm evil! <strong>

**If you want to know what happens next, please review and tell me what you think. I could really use some feedback.**

**Thanks.**

**Cheers,**

**Phoenix Call**


	3. Grating Nerves and General Displeasure

**_ AN:_ I am sooooo, soooo sorry that I haven't posted in so long. To tell you the truth, between schoolwork, writer's block and a sudden lack of interest in all things Harry Potter, I haven't been able to write anything. However, the last two of those problems are solved, though school work will still be an issue. My other story, _Marauders: In the Beginning_, will be on temporary hiatus due to extreme writer's block. I have started several stories for _Lord of the Rings_, and definatly plan to finish this one, one of my personal favorites.**

**Chapter 3 has a few surprises I hope you'll enjoy. I'll try to finish chapter four as soon as I can though I"m not making any promises.**

**A huge thanks to all those who have reviewed: Charlie300895, Lightningscar, Princess Marauder, and Louey06. I really appreciate it. Another thanks to all those who have alerted/favorited this story. I am sooooo sorry for the long wait, all of you.**

**Enjoy! And please review! :)**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. All OC's are mine. Original idea omes from Princess Marauder. The rest of the story is mine.

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><p><em>Chapter 3<em>

~***Grating Nerves and General Displeasure***~

"To know why the errant Beta of Greyback's pack has been gone so far into the night…again," hissed his attacker.

Dark Moon felt a jolt of surprise as he recognized the voice. _Of all the people in the pack who had catch me wandering out after curfew, _he thought.

"I don't see why that concerns you, Black River," he murmured back. He felt the knife at his throat being pressed harder against his jugular, a thin trail of blood dripping down his neck.

"Since I have you in a position in which I can easily kill you and you can do nothing about it, I suggest you start talking." His attacker's voice was low and hostile, but Dark Moon could hear the all-too-familiar undertone in that voice. His lips curled into a thin smile.

"You do realize that threatening people will only make them more averse to answering your questions," he shot back, his voice laced with barely veiled amusement, "especially when said person knows that you will not actually go through with those threats no matter how…persuasively you may present them."

The knife was pressed harder against his throat, creating a deeper cut. "Oh, I wouldn't, wouldn't I?" The attacker hissed back, but this time there was obvious amusement in that voice. Dark Moon's smile widened.

Suddenly, the pressure on his neck lessened and his attacker released him. The teenager stumbled and turned around coming face to face to the one who had threatened him. The figure was dressed in a long, flowing black cloak much like his own, and his face was cast into darkness by his hood.

Black River threw back her hood to reveal her face. She was pale, but not overly so, with sharp, majestic facial features and dark, swirling green eyes that seemed to look right through you. Her lips were thin and pressed into a hard line. Her midnight black hair was pulled into a tight braid, accentuating her sharp features. A pale, silvery scar stood out on her face, running across her left cheek. At first glance, she looked to be no older than Dark Moon himself, however if one looked into her eyes, they would see a much older gaze than her looks presented.

Black River fixed the teenager with one of her trademark glares that gave her the appearance of a hawk boring its eyes through to one's very soul. It sent most of the senior werewolves fleeing, freezing the younger ones in place. Her glare had the exact opposite effect on Dark Moon, however, who chuckled as she crossed her arms, his posture set.

"You know, River, you really should smile more. That frown you have going on can really make people feel unwelcome," he said brightly.

Black River did not take his advice. "And your much-too-cheery nature is incredibly annoying," she retorted.

Dark Moon flashed her a brilliant smile. "Well, someone's gotta spread some cheer in this place. Just stepping in here could depress a squirrel."

"You are just grating," she bit out.

"Why thank you," he beamed.

Black River scoffed and rolled her eyes. Of all the werewolves in Greyback's pack, Dark Moon was the only one who could get under her skin by just talking to her. She wasn't sure if it was the way too cheery attitude that he always put forth, or the fact that he was the only person in the world who didn't find her glares and overbearing personality even remotely frightening…in fact, he found them _amusing. _The only word she could use to describe him was_ annoying._

There was a long silence and then, "Well?"

"Wow, I didn't know your vocabulary was so extensive, River. Have you been reading the Dictionary again?"

Scratch that; he was absolutely _insufferable_.

Black River ground her teeth together in no mood for the younger werewolf's witty and absolutely _obnoxious _retorts. She had had a long day, and putting up with the teenager's cheek was not how she had planned on spending her blessedly quiet evening.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" she snapped.

"What was the question again?"

The elder werewolf was tempted to wipe that smile off his face with a rather sharp machette.

"The one I asked you when I had you pinned only seconds away from death."

"Oh that one!"

Black River was currently imagining how satisfying it would be to rip out the boy's throat with her bare hands. Dark Moon pressed his fingers against the cut on his neck as if remembering the feeling of the steel on his throat.

"You know, it's considered rude not to show your face to someone when their trying to hold a conversation with you," she stated mildly.

"Did you know it's considered rude to jump people and threaten them when they enter their own home?"

_Maybe if I hide his body at the bottom of the Black Lake, no one will find it…_

"Perhaps I should finish the job I started," she mused out loud, her eyes traveling to the teenager's throat.

"There you go again!" Dark Moon sighed with mock exasperation. "You know, you won't make any friends if you threaten everyone who tries to be nice to you."

Black River growled. "Well, considering every person who's ever been remotely nice to me has always been trying to get under my guard and kill me-"

"I'm not!"

"- I see no reason to be kind in return."

Dark Moon did not take kindly to being ignored. Black River didn't care.

"So?"

"Another big word!" Dark Moon cried excitedly. "Ah, they grow up so fast." He pretended to wipe an invisible tear off his cheek.

Black River was about to snap at the teenager when a nearby werewolf snorted in his sleep and rolled over. Both werewolves stayed absolutely still until the man settled down again, facing them. Their expressions were suddenly absolutely serious.

The two werewolves' eyes met and Black River surreptitiously motioned up to the next tier. Dark Moon nodded, all cheeriness gone, and followed his companion up the steps to the outer rim of the cave.

Dark Moon's room was small. Very small. He wordlessly conjured a handful of yellow flames, spreading light through the small cave and placed them in the lantern hanging from the low ceiling. There was very little in the second-in-command's room. A sleeping mat lay on a cleft on the far side. Various weapons, books and equipment littered the rough, stone floor. A leather traveling bag sat next to his bed, packed and ready for a quick escape. A water skin hung from a stone hook. A few scrolls of parchment, several bottles of ink, and some quills sat on flat step that acted as a makeshift desk. There was very little room in the burrow for movement, and the small lantern on the ceiling was the only light needed to illuminate the entire cave.

Dark Moon sat down on his bed cross- legged, flipping his hood back to reveal his face. Black River stepped over the threshold, closing the wooden door behind her. Being a few inches taller than the teenager who occupied this space, she was forced to duck as she strode over to the bed, sitting down next to her companion.

The room was silent. Black River looked over at the boy. All the enthusiasm and annoying energy that he had possessed earlier was gone leaving a grave and serious teenager who was far too old for his comparatively small years. Although Black River found his enthusiasm insufferably annoying, she hated when he fell into these grim, depressed moods. She almost preferred the too-cheerful teenager back in the cavern to the serious one sitting next to her now. After spending three years in the boy's company, she was accustomed to his extreme mood swings and his calm, impassive, happy-go-lucky façade however, even now, she wasn't completely sure how to deal with the teenager when he had retreated into himself.

"I guess you were right," she said after a long while, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the small room, "this place can depress a squirrel."

The boy looked at her questioningly.

"And the proof is sitting right next to me."

Dark Moon smiled slightly and snorted. Black River had often likened him to a squirrel because of his excessive energy and almost constantly cheery attitude.

"So," she said with a bit of wryness in her voice, "are you ready to tell me where you were that kept you out long past curfew or do I have to threaten you again."

Dark Moon smiled again, but his smile quickly vanished. His gaze was locked on the wooden door on the opposite side of his room.

"Well?" she prodded. This time there were no teasing remarks about having been reading the dictionary.

Black River sighed, the boy's silence answering her question. "You went back, didn't you." It was a statement, not a question.

Dark Moon didn't respond, his silence a confirmation in and of itself.

"How many times have I told you that it's not healthy for you to keep doing this to yourself?"

Dark Moon didn't answer. The silence stretched on until…

"They built another house there," he said suddenly.

Black River snapped her head to look at him. The teenager was still staring at the door.

"In the exact same spot. Even looks a bit like our old one."

Black River let out a long-suffering sigh. "They're gone, and brooding on it isn't going to do anything but depress you more. Just let go and move on."

"I have moved on," he said quietly, "but I can never let go. It's my fault they're dead! Greyback wouldn't have burned the place down if he wasn't trying to get at me."

Black River groaned inwardly. They had had this conversation countless times before, but it never seemed to penetrate the teen's thick skull. "And who bit you in the first place?"

Dark Moon again remained silent.

"Did you want them dead?"

"No!" the boy said suddenly, his head snapping to glare at the young woman beside him.

"Then it's not your fault," she stated simply, fixing him with her trademark glare.

"But –"

"No buts!" she snapped. "It's not your fault they're dead and you have to stop blaming yourself. Did you go up to Greyback and ask him to kill them? And I suppose you just _begged_ him to bite you in the first place."

Dark Moon didn't respond.

"See, it's not your fault."

Dark Moon didn't look like he believed her but nodded anyway. Anything to drop the subject. Black River could spot an avoidance mechanism a hundred miles away, but decided to drop the subject for the time being, sensing he wasn't ready to talk at the moment and knowing he wouldn't listen unless he was.

"Speaking of the devil re-incarnated, where is he? I didn't sense him when I approached the Den."

"Out on a hunt," responded Black River dryly.

"Ah," was all he could manage.

"He put me in charge until you returned." She gave him an accusing look.

"Please don't tell him about this," he pleaded, looking at Black River with big eyes. "I don't need him angrier with me than he already is."

Black River considered the boy for a moment before raising an eyebrow in confusion. "What are you talking about? You were here before moonrise and haven't done anything against the pack code since your return and I have absolutely no idea what you were up to during your absence from the Den." Her smile was mischievous.

Dark Moon's mouth hung open. It was a few seconds before he regained the ability to speak. "Thank you so much," he said.

"What are you talking about, I'm only stating fact." Black River got up and moved over to the door. She looked up to see the unspoken gratitude in the boy's eyes.

"I won't forget this," he said sincerely.

"You better not," she smirked, closing the door behind her. And she knew he wouldn't.

* * *

><p>Greyback returned an hour later with a band of his most trusted 'Hunters', a twisted smile gracing his grizzled, grotesque features. He was happy…elated. This was proved when he kicked a sleeping werewolf off his step and into the river, laughing, his Hunters following in his wake, cackling cruelly. Yes, he was overjoyed.<p>

That was not a good sign. Not at all.

* * *

><p>James and Sirius followed Marlene through the undergrowth swearing as their clothes caught on brambles and low-hanging branches. They were tired, hungry, and sore. Not to mention bored and irritated. They had been traveling through the forest blindly for three days straight with little sleep. Despite the extreme heat of day, the nights in the forest of Scotland were frigid. Marlene had forbidden them to light any fires, even to cook food, so nights were torturous. They couldn't even cast warming charms as they couldn't use magic; it was too risky. They hadn't washed up once since they had set out and none of their meals were cooked, since they couldn't light fires. They had to be absolutely silent on their mission to try and avoid detection which grated on the usually talkative boys' nerves.<p>

However, the thing that angered them the most was that none of this seemed to faze the auror in their midst. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it...or it could be she enjoyed watching the teenagers' misery. However, that was besides the point. Marlene McKinnon was five years older than them and a woman to boot. Yes, she was an auror, but still. In the minds of the boys, she should be suffering more than they. Unfortunately for them, she was in her element. Out of them all, she had had the least sleep, not trusting either of them as sentries for very long at night, yet she had the most energy. Not only that, but she didn't even _look_ like she had spent three entire days trudging through the middle of nowhere.

The three were dressed in muggle camping gear. They wore high-top hiking boots with long, extra durable combat pants tucked into their boots, green t-shirts and camouflage hunting jackets. Their leather packs held one change of clothes, non-perishable food, water bottles and water purifying tablets, blankets for sleeping, light, camouflage rain jackets, toilet paper, rope to tie their bags up in the trees at night, their wands, and other camping necessities. They slept under the stars every night as pitching a tent would draw too much attention.

Marlene had her brown hair drawn out of her face in a messy bun that was still completely intact. A leather belt hung around her waist and a machete dangled from her hip. She wore black biking gloves to protect much of her hands and her boots were worn and dirty from much use. Unlike the boys, the blazingly hot weather did not faze her, even layered and covered as she was.

Marlene McKinnon was not only a good auror but also an excellent tracker. That was one section of her auror test she had aced. Though she was from a completely wizarding family, and an old one at that, her father had always been fascinated with muggles and what they did for fun. Ever since she was young, she, her three older brothers, and her father had gone hunting, backpacking, rock climbing, and shooting as well as various other muggle outdoor activities. And they had done it all the muggle way…no magic whatsoever. Her father and brothers had taught her how to track animals and she became very good at it. It was apparent from a young age that she was a born hunter and she enjoyed it…which had no doubt led to her choice of profession.

And tracking people, she had learned quickly, was none-too different than tracking animals; albeit smarter, stealthier animals. And right now, she was putting her tracking skills to good use as the party of three tried to locate the entrance to Greyback's lair.

So far, she had found three different sets of humanoid tracks but none of them seemed to lead anywhere. One set landed them at the bank of a broad river. They had crossed over to the opposite bank, walking a mile in either direction finding nothing. They had done the same on the other bank in case their prey had used the river as a quick getaway to throw pursuers off and swum up or down river and doubled back, but they had no such luck.

Another set of footsteps led them right into the heart of a centaur colony and did not leave. Another set had led straight off the edge of a cliff and did not continue. This had disturbed the teenagers greatly but they hadn't said anything.

They were currently scouring the ground for more tracks…or at least Marlene was scanning the ground for tracks while James and Sirius trudged on behind her, wallowing in their misery. The auror mentally groaned and rolled her eyes for the nth time this trip. At first the two had been bursting with energy, not able to wait to go on a field mission, ready to kick some werewolf butt. However, their opinions were quickly changed as they walked on in perpetual silence for hours on end seemingly in no real direction.

The boys had agreed to this mission hoping for action and adventure. However, they were getting no action, bar an incident involving a hungry raccoon and their open travel packs, and did not like the hardships that adventure came with. Not at all. Both had come from rich families, _very_ rich families, and had always had everything served to them on a silver platter. The hardships of backpacking came as a rather unpleasant surprise.

James found himself wishing he were back in the cool sitting room of Number 26 Cobblestone Lane where resided hot food, cushioned couches, and a flushable toilet. Sirius's mind was wandering to air-conditioned muggle supermarkets where no one really cared how much noise a person made as it was already loud enough to begin with and days when he could just annoy the pants off of his auror mentor, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Finally, Marlene had had enough. She stopped suddenly and the boys, who had not been paying attention to anything but their aching muscles and general displeasure almost ran straight into her. Marlene dropped her bag on the ground and removed her hunting jacket draping it over her pack. The auror gracefully sat down on a fallen log and proceeded to take the whetstone out of her bag and sharpen her machete. The teenagers looked up at the auror in confusion; however, she just continued to sharpen her machete.

A few minutes passed before the twenty-three-year-old looked up at the still-standing teenagers. "Well, what are you standing around for," she asked. "I stopped 'cause I couldn't stand your grumbling and blundering. It will alert anything for miles around."

The teenagers just stood there dumbstruck. Did she mean that they had been standing there like idiots all this time for _nothing_?

"Don't want to rest?" she asked in mock surprise. "Well then, I guess we could just keep moving…"

Marlene proceeded to stand up. She really was a brilliant actor…compliments of her years of auror training.

"No!" the two boys yelled in unison, finally regaining the ability to speak. Immediately they shrugged off their packs and jackets, plopping down on the ground across from the auror.

"First you stand there for five whole minutes doing absolutely nothing, packs and jackets still on, and now you want to take a load off? Honestly make up your minds!" If she hadn't been smiling, one might have actually believed her words to be sincere. "Teenagers," she sighed, sitting back down, continuing to sharpen her machete as if nothing had happened. The two boys glared at her, still slightly agape. Marlene was a cruel, cruel woman. _Unbelievably_ cruel.

A few minutes later Sirius piped up. "Can we talk?" he asked, hopefully.

"Did I give you permission to?" She asked, fixing the boys with a stern look.

"No, but-"

"Then there's your answer," she said, pointing her machete threateningly at the two boys. They cowered away from her. She had proven her proficiency with that particular device in scaring away the raccoon. That had been enough to discourage them from ever crossing her.

It was wonderful really, the power she held over the two Marauders. She smirked inwardly. It really was.

* * *

><p>The sun was crawling slowly towards the trees to the west of the Forest of Grandure. The tall, read-headed Prewett twins slunk quietly through the trees. Behind them trailed the youngest member of their party. All three were dressed in garb quite similar to their fellow Order members currently scouring the forests of Scotland. The three could have been an ordinary muggle family, two brothers and a sister, out on a backpacking trip through the forest. In fact, if any were to discover them, this was their cover story. They had left behind any magical objects save their wands, which were stowed in the deepest pockets of their bags where no one would find them save their owners.<p>

The red-headed party of three had had significantly less problems concerning the outdoor conditions. Fabien and Gideon were both well-trained aurors who worked alongside Kingsley Shacklebolt who had graduated Hogwarts the same year as Marlene Mckinnon. They had plenty of experience in extreme conditions. Their current predicament was nothing to them. They were both great trackers, though nowhere as skilled as Marlene. However, they had yet to find any humanoid footprints and were thoroughly convinced they had been sent on a wild goose chase.

Lily Evans was enjoying herself. She had always loved camping. Being a muggle-born, it was something she and her family had done numerous times in the past. She had loved it then, and still did. However, she was finding this trip more enjoyable than any of the trips she had taken since her acceptance into Hogwarts. The sole reason for this was clear: there was no annoying, whiny, diva by the name of Petunia Evans to ruin the trip. That in itself was a blessing.

The three members of this particular party had no problem staying quiet. This, in itself, was extremely shocking. If anyone who knew Lily Evans and the Prewett twins saw them, they would not recognize either party at the moment. The twins were always extremely talkative and loved to pull pranks and annoy people. Lily Evans was highly sociable and had a reputation among those in her year at Hogwarts for being the best person at holding a one-sided conversation.

However, all three were caught in the heat of the moment, the thrill of the chase, even if they were walking circles around themselves most of the time. They were laser-focused on their work and nothing could distract them. It was amazing to see, really; the hyper, prankster, Prewett twins and the talkative Miss Lily Evans walking through the wilderness, quiet as the breeze, completely focused on their task.

The sun had finally set over the forest and the three were cast into dark shadow. Clouds covered the moon. There would be no finding tracks this night. Fabien held his arm out, stopping his twin. The two communicated silently for a moment before coming to an agreement. Gideon turned to Lily and signed to her with his hands. The teenager nodded, and the three settled down in a dip beneath a fallen log, to catch a few hours of sleep before setting out again.

And that's when disaster struck.

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><p><strong>Hehe! Another cliffie! I'm so evil.<strong>

***hides from readers***

**Please review! It will help inspire me to write more and better cure my writer's block! :)**


	4. Sentry Duty and a Legilimens

**AN:** And chapter 4 is finally up! I'm not very happy with it, but this has been sitting on my computer for the longest time and I thought it would be a good idea to get it out there. A million appologies for all those who have been waiting patiently (or unpatiently) for the next chapter but I honestly lost my muse and got entrenched in another fandom. I will try to write more, but I am also workig on several other stories, so updates may take a while. And sorry for the second cliffhanger, but you guys have already waited long enough.

So here I give you some Dark Moon/Greyback interaction as requested and a few other surprises in the mix.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

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><p><em>Chapter 4<em>

**~*Sentry Duty and a Legilimins*~**

Sentry Duty.

Dark Moon _hated_ sentry duty. It had to be the most boring job on the face of the Earth.

The young werewolf peered through the thick trees, his eyes able to pierce the darkness like a knife. He sat behind a small thicket of bushes which he had selected as cover, and was gazing over the edge of the short cliff on which their camp was situated. It was freezing that night, despite the sweltering hot day. That didn't faze the boy. Werewolves were almost immune to extreme temperatures when in complete physical health. This meant that werewolves did not need to light fires at night, for not only could they see unnaturally well in the dark, but they did not need it to keep themselves warm.

Dark Moon scanned the forest again using his ears and nose more than his eyes. This night had been extremely uneventful. The only thing that had moved near the campsite had been a squirrel at least one hundred yards away.

Dark Moon sighed and glanced down at the sleeping werewolves below him. Their camp. Greyback had assigned Dark Moon and a score of his men on a reconnaissance mission around the forest. Apparently he had caught whiff of some humans nearby.

"Find them," he had said in his low, growling voice, "and scare them away. They give you trouble, kill them instantly. We can't have anyone meddling in our affairs."

Dark Moon chuckled mirthlessly. Meddling in their affairs. If the werewolf had any money he'd be more than happy to _pay_ someone to catch Greyback and incarcerate him like he deserved. However, he knew that if he turned in Greyback, he might as well be turning himself in as well. Though Dark Moon was one of the least criminally inclined where Greyback's pack was concerned, he had broken enough wizarding law to land him a double life sentence in Azkaban.

He remembered with chilling clarity when Greyback had returned eight days prior after his 'Hunt.' He and his Hunters had woken every member of the pack, including the higher-ranking werewolves, and corralled them into the bowl that was the main cavern.

He had told his pack that he and his Hunters had just been off to seek an audience with the Dark Lord requesting a place in his ranks. The Dark Lord had been seemingly impressed by Greyback and his Hunters and had told the Alpha to expect to be sent a message at a later date concerning their admittance.

Most of the senior werewolves had cheered at this, though not all were happy. Some believed that this Wizarding War was exactly that, a _wizarding_ war and they didn't want to associate themselves either way. It was none of their concern. The wizards started it, let the wizards end it. Others were too scared to even think about joining. They had heard stories of what the Dark Lord did to his followers and none of them were nice. Not to mention his so called Death Eaters were all pure blood aristocrats who despised half breeds even more than they despised muggle borns. Muggle borns at least were human after all.

Some of the pack were elated. The Dark Lord had promised rights and prey, two things that were in short supply for the werewolves thanks to the accursed Ministry regulations, though Dark Moon knew that the dark wizard almost never kept his promises, except those of death or torture. Others wanted revenge on the ministry and wizard-kind for the injustice they had had to go through because of something they couldn't control. What better way to gain revenge then to join the man whose side would lead to the slaughter of countless wizards, witches, and Ministry officials?

A small portion of the pack, however, felt only sick apprehension and disgust. They had heard what the Dark Lord did and had seen first-hand some of the cruelties he and his Death Eaters had inflicted upon innocents. They knew what it was like to be the innocents, hated and hunted for what they could not control. They knew what it was like to be treated as less than animals. The only reason why many of them had joined the pack willingly was due to the fact that they had nowhere else to turn. Others had been forcefully removed from their homes.

Dark Moon was one of these. He may not have had any love for the ministry or most of wizard-kind, but he did not believe in revenge. Many of these people who would die under the Dark Lord's regime were women, children, muggle-born witches and wizards who would not have grown up with the prejudices of the wizarding world and had just as much right to learn magic and acquire a job in the Ministry as any pureblood witch or wizard.

Joining the Dark Lord would be the same as bringing himself down to the same level as the Ministry. It would mean acting like the very animals most of wizard-kind considered them to be. And that is something that Dark Moon, feared Beta of Greyback's pack, could not do.

Dark Moon remembered with clarity the conversation he had had with his Alpha after he had sent the pack back to their posts and to sleep.

_"I know you don't like this," were Greyback's first words. Dark Moon stood in front of his Alpha who was reclining in one of the stone chairs carved from the rock itself in the elder werewolf's 'Office', as the pack had dubbed it, though there was nothing inside the cave-like room that would constitute a true office where one handled honest business manners. Greyback certainly handled business matters there, but there was never anything honest about them. Being sent to the 'Office' was usually followed by the convenient death of the one who had been summoned there. Dark Moon, however, had never had much to fear when entering the Office, as he was too valuable to the Alpha to be disposed of._

_Greyback leaned back casually in his chair, watching the teenager carefully across the stony expanse of his 'Desk', which was covered with all sorts of maps, weapons and devices the Beta had seen used on unfortunates who had displeased their Alpha._

_"In fact, I know you hate it," the werewolf continued in a matter-of-fact tone._

_Dark Moon did not respond nor refute these statements. He did not need to. Greyback already knew them to be the truth. A little less than two years before when the Alpha had appointed him Beta after the other one had 'outlived his usefulness,' the two had come to an understanding. The boy was sharp and perceptive with a strategist's mind and great attention to detail along with uncanny intuition and great power. He had the ability to instill obedience in a person with a mere glance and kept the pack in order and was able to mediate between pack members when arguments or feuds broke out. And despite the fact that he had no one close enough to himself to consider a true friend, as he avoided connections at all costs knowing that the chances of losing anyone he let close were astronomically high and not knowing if he could stand doing so so soon after the death of his parents and the destruction of his entire world, Dark Moon was loyal to the pack and all its members. When left alone in the big wide world, it was paramount that the pack stayed loyal and helped each other in any way, and Dark Moon was no different._

_In reward for Dark Moon's services, Greyback refrained from forcing the Beta into doing that which he hated. He left him in charge of the Den during the full moons or when he went on his Hunts and generally kept from ordering him to do anything that would involve killing or torturing others. Sometimes, however, Greyback would find a way around this and Dark Moon would have to obey. Loopholes, he called them, but Dark Moon knew better. They were warnings, warnings of what would happen to him or others if he ever crossed the Alpha and the Beta took each to heart, living also with the guilt of knowing it had been his hands that had committed the heinous deeds. He had just as much blood on his hands as almost any other in the pack save Greyback and his Hunters who reveled in the execution: the hunt, the chase, and the kill._

_"I'm not going to order you into his ranks," continued Greyback, "because I'm going to need you here. I may be gone periodically and for long periods of time, without notice. You will be left in charge of the running of the pack during those times. However, there may be a time when you are called upon to do your duty to the Dark Lord. If that is the case, then you will execute these orders and carry them through as any of the orders I have given you thus far, with the same meticulous care that you have committed to all your other tasks."_

_"I understand, sir," came Dark Moon's response. The Beta looked his leader straight in the eye, voice firm and confident, showing none of the apprehension and reluctant acceptance to what he had known to be the inevitable he was feeling inside. In the pack 'if' meant when, 'may' meant will, and threats were only promises. Even the promise of death was only postponed, never eradicated._

_"I'm glad you do," responded Greyback, his silver eyes boring into the gold ones of his second-in-command. "You are dismissed until further instruction," he said with obvious finality. Dark Moon inclined his head slightly before leaving the Office at his normal, brisk pace._

_He was under censure. He had known this the second the Alpha had announced his 'alliance' with the Dark Lord. He was under no illusion that his every move wouldn't be watched with frightening meticulousness. Greyback may need him, but that did not mean he trusted him. The Alpha trusted no one, especially not his young Beta. The two of them had an understanding and this meant the two knew each other as well as the other. Dark Moon knew he would be put under censure just as Greyback knew his Beta knew he would be watched._

_One thing was for sure: there would be no more breaking curfew, visiting his home, or continuing his personal mission until he was no longer under censure._

_Dark Moon walked briskly and confidently toward his room, not bothering to even glance at any who were passing him as he strode through the spiraling walkway of the upper tiers. He didn't stop once until he made it to his room and closed the wooden door behind himself before plopping down on his bed. He did not sleep that night._

Dark Moon sighed for the nth time that night. Ever since Greyback's return and revelation, the Alpha had been going on more and more Hunts, becoming more and more paranoid of spies and nosey humans. Unrest in the pack had grown to a record high and countless fights had broken out between pack members. However, a few demonstrations from Greyback's Hunters had quelled any more open dispute and had restored an uneasy peace in the pack. The bodies of said demonstrations were still hanging gutted and limp from some of the central cavern pillars, a constant reminder of why no one dared cross Greyback or his Hunters.

This unrest coupled with the increased paranoia of the Alpha meant more work for the higher-ranking pack members. The Beta especially had to work longer shifts, organize more patrols, and bark out more orders than ever before. Dark Moon had also had to make his own demonstration not three days ago to keep those under his command from questioning his authority. Said demonstration was not dead, but it had been enough to keep anyone from even dreaming of crossing their Beta for quite some time.

Dark Moon and Almach were unable to keep their mission running. Greyback's increased paranoia meant tighter security and daily formations which was their way of 'calling roll' so to speak, making it impossible to smuggle werewolves out of the pack without the notice of anyone else. Not to mention the fact that he was under censure, his every move catalogued by one of the Alpha's informants. The Beta was sure at least one of the members of his current troop was under orders to keep an eye on him every second and report any and all occurrences. It was like having an invisible shadow that he could never pinpoint, but knew was there, just waiting for the werewolf to do something wrong.

A twig snapped in the distance instantly pulling the werewolf out of his despairing thoughts. Dark Moon moved unconsciously into a crouched position, swiftly but silently whipping the knife from his belt, an instinct honed over years of living in the wilds. Dark Moon surveyed the forest around him, throwing all his senses outward. A soft breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves and lazily tugging at the werewolf's hair.

Dark Moon scanned the trees warily taking in every detail of the surrounding forest. He whipped his head around as another snap echoed through the trees, this time closer and followed by a sound so faint, had he not been so well trained, he would have written it down as a figment of imagination. But he had heard it. And he was suddenly aware that the prospective intruder was not a mere raccoon out in search of a meal.

Without warning, the wind changed direction leaving Dark Moon downwind from the prospective threat. His keen nose picked up the faint scent of one…no, three bodies. The Beta smiled to himself, though not out of humor. He knew that scent well. The intruders were humans.

Marlene slunk noiselessly through the trees. It had been several days since she had rested last and her two companions were lagging behind her, causing far more noise than was wise at this time of the night. The only sound other than the travelers' breathing was the chirping of the crickets accompanied by an occasional owl hoot or the sound tiny feet pattering on the leaf mould, rustling the brush in their wake. Marlene flinched as one of the two blundering idiots behind her stepped on a twig causing it to snap. The sound reverberated through the unusually quiet forest and would be a beacon to any pursuers. She stopped only to glare at the offender before continuing onwards.

Over the past few days, the auror had grown increasingly more cautious. She had seen large shadows flicking in and out of the corner of her vision. She was not sure what the creatures were, but knowing this particular area of the forest, it could be any manner of Dark or ferocious beast. They were in the Dark Regions of the forest north of the Black Lake where only the most dangerous of beasts dared lurk. To come in contact with any of these creatures would be the equivalent of signing one's death warrant.

One of the boys stepped on another twig, letting out a soft stream of curses. Marlene whipped around to face the troublemakers. "Shut up," she hissed quietly. Any soft noise could draw attention to themselves on so quiet a night, especially the attention of the werewolves they were tracking whose senses were far more heightened than their own.

James and Sirius looked up at the auror, identical expressions of misery etched across their faces. They had been traveling for almost three weeks and were absolutely fed up with the whole mission. After this, James would gladly take up his research without complaint…anything to not have to go through this again.

Marlene sighed inwardly. She had to admit that she, too, was rather tired, despite her outwardly energetic appearance. However, she was itching to continue the way she was headed. Only the day before, she had found a hoard of large deer tracks, which she had been following in search of a water source. They had gone on for several yards before stopping abruptly. On closer inspection, she saw the ground bore a large indentation as if the deer had been felled, but the carcass was missing. It had not been dragged away. There were no tracks to suggest that the deer had recovered its footing and made it away from the area, either, so the deer had to have been taken. She concluded that its predator must have picked it up and carried away. However, what was even more intriguing was the absence of any other prints in the area or disturbance to show that someone had tried to cover his tracks, and there was no blood, suggesting a clean kill. But what excited her even more was that the tracks were fresh, barely two hours old, which meant its predator could still be close at hand. After a search that encompassed a one hundred yard perimeter, no other tracks had been found save those of small woodland animals.

Not very much was known about the werewolves who lived outside of wizarding society. It is said that they are savage and ruthless and revel in bloodbaths and killing. However, Marlene was beginning to wonder. Whatever creature had felled the deer had not left any traces save for the original tracks which were not disturbed, suggesting the being was either trying not to be discovered, and certainly sane and clever enough to come up with a discreet hunting plan, or was very light of foot and certainly not a ruthless blood-spiller. Marlene was unsure, but she had a feeling that the ones behind the kill were their quarry, and here hunches tended to be right. If this was the case, then the werewolves would be impossible to track by any traditional means, and they had wasted the past couple weeks trying to do so.

So until they could come up with a better strategy to track their elusive prey, they had decided to extend the perimeter of their search and were now several miles from where the deer had been felled. Marlene was only following a hunch, but as there was no other information forthcoming, she decided it would be better to trust her instincts until she was proved wrong.

Sirius stopped suddenly caused James to crash into his back and let out a small exclamation of annoyance. Marlene turned around to scold them, but stop suddenly at the look on Sirius's face. The two exchanged a glance. Before throwing their senses outward. Something was wrong. James was no longer grumbling but standing still next to his companions. He had heard it too, or rather did not hear anything.

"It's too quiet," Sirius murmured, voicing what was on the minds of all in the party.

The night was silent, utterly silent. Not a single noise could be heard. It was as if the very earth held its breath in anticipation, the air heavy and charged with a strange expectance, waiting excitedly for what was to come and setting the trackers on edge.

It came without warning. One moment the three were standing still and attentive on the ground, the next they were thrown bodily forward, painfully impacting against the ground with stars and fireworks of black exploding in their vision. When their mind cleared it was to find they were face down in the ground, arms twisted behind their backs with knees grinding painfully into the smalls of their backs. The Order members struggled for a few moments, only to find their actions futile. The iron grips of their captors tightened to beyond painful degrees and James was sure his back was broken.

James lay still and limp under his captor, trying to figure out a means of escape. The one above him was far too strong and, considering the speed of the attack, very fast. James was almost sure they didn't want them dead, or they would probably be dead already. He could not dissapparate as his wand was deep in his pack where he could not reach. The young wizard tried to crane his neck around, but found he could see little more than the forest floor. From somewhere nearby came a piercing whistle, whether from beast or man, James could not tell.

Moments ticked by and the fear and apprehension of the subdued wizards and witch began to mount. What was happening? James's captor was still and unmoving as a statue. The being did not even seem to breathe. James began to wonder if it was a being that held him at all or perhaps a spirit of death in its corporal form. A very unlikely possibility, but when one's fear and apprehension are left unchecked and growing, the imagination can do strange things.

Sirius was the first to break. "What do you want with us?" he said bravely, voice carrying all the vitriolic disdain it did whenever he spoke of his family and showing none of his comprehension. As if in answer, another whistle pierced the night somewhere to James's right. The young wizard was suddenly up righted and held pinned on his knees, head forced forward by a large, iron hand. A strange feeling of nervous apprehension quite unlike that which he had experienced earlier twisted his gut. The teenager gulped, waiting.

"I said, what do you want from us!" Sirius demanded, quite as patient as usual. James suddenly caught slight movement in his peripherals. He tried to see what has caught his attention, but his captor had his head effectively secured.

"I know exactly what you said," came a smooth voice somewhere to James's left. The voice was masculine and surprisingly…young. "Yet I will decide when it is time to answer your question and the answer will depend on many things."

The speaker went quiet and James felt his apprehension mount. What was happening?

Moments ticked by, but the forest and speaker were still utterly silent. James shifted uncomfortably, his muscles beginning to cramp up under the vice-like hold of his captor. The being's hold tightened and James stilled. Even this small comfort was denied him. All he could do was wait, and that was something he had never been very good at.

"I said, what do you want from us!"

Sirius felt a strange knot of fear settle in his gut after he shouted these words. Something was not right, well, besides the fact that he was being held captive by Merlin knows what with no means of escape and could neither hear nor see his companions. _What are they waiting for?_ he wondered of his captors. As if summoned by his thoughts, a figure materialized in front of his eyes as if emerging from the dark shrouds of night itself. The specter was cloaked in black and mist curled around its ankles twisting and slithering like snakes upon the ground. The figure glided toward him on silent feet in a way that, if Sirius had not seen the being's black leather boots peeking out from beneath its cloak when it moved, he would have believed it was gliding across the ground. He felt his gut turn into knots and perform amazing aerobatic feats. For some reason, he could not feel angry at his situation with this specter so near, only enormous, gut-wrenching fear.

Sirius gulped as the being stopped two feet from him and looked downwards. Sirius's breath caught in his throat as two glowing gold eyes pierced his through the layers of darkness that shrouded the specter's face. The young wizard felt as if his soul were being shredded to pieces and meticulously perused and catalogued, all his secrets revealed in one glance. He gulped and tore his eyes away. The boy who could stand up to Dumbledore, McGonagall, and his father's very worst, could not stand the soul-piercing gaze of the being before him.

"I know exactly what you said," spoke the specter in a strangely smooth voice that both calmed Sirius and sent his nerves haywire. It was as if the beings very voice was a spell being woven to capture his soul and hold it hostage. "Yet I will decide when it is time to answer your question, if at all, and the answer will depend on many things."

Sirius stared at the being's black leather boots and was intrigued by their make, for they were like nothing he had ever seen before. They seemed to be light and soft, with only a couple layers of leather on the sole of the boot. They were neither tied nor buckled and there was no visible stitching, as if they were merely wrappings encasing the specter's feet like socks. He continued to mentally trace the wrappings to try to figure out where they began and ended, anything to keep from having to look up into those eyes or let his mind remember how hopeless their mission was and fall back into panicked apprehension. However, he could study the boots for only so long before his mind began to sink into panic again, and he looked up. A mistake.

The eyes were still watching him, open and hypnotizing. Kingsley Schacklebolt's words during auror training suddenly screamed in the back of his mind. _He's a legilimens_. However, this realization was a moment too late for the being's eyes had taken on a decidedly triumphant sparkle. Sirius tore his gaze away, panicking all over again, breathing heavily. Whatever that creature was, it was magical and now knew everything.

Sirius watched as the feet moved away without a sound and could do nothing but wait. He had failed his friends, he had failed his mentor, he had failed his mission, and he had failed the Order. Whatever this dark creature was it _knew_. And now they would all die because he couldn't recognize a powerful legilimens when it stared him in the face. In any other situation, Sirius would have laughed at the irony of this last thought, but now it only caused him panic.

_Get a grip on yourself, Black! You coward! Stop panicking or you'll never get out or James _or_ Marlene! You'll just have to make extra sure you kill him when you finally make your escape!_

That resolved, he steeled himself, drawing his head up. His newly found resolve would not acknowledge that tiny voice of reason that told him there was no escape and they were all already as good as dead.

Outwardly, Marlene was the picture of a calm, collected auror. Inside, she did not let herself acknowledge her fear, apprehension, or uncertainty. She had to find a way out of this. By the strange, building terror gripping her heart, she was sure that whatever beings had captured them were magical and shrouding their senses in a strange rendition of a befuddling charm. Experienced as she was, she was able to control these instincts which the charm seemed to magnify to painful degrees, though found herself having a more difficult time concentrating then she would have believed even with the spell. Clever as her companions were, they were young and, as yet, untried, and would have difficulty thinking clearly enough to devise a means of escape. This meant it was up to Marlene to do so.

So deeply was she trying to concentrate that she did not hear Sirius's shouts, or the response they elicited. It wasn't until two black, booted feet appeared in her line of vision that she even realized another being had joined them. Snapped out of her plans for escape, she steeled her jaw and looked up surely and confidently into the eyes of the one before her. Shining gold eyes met hers through the darkness of a dark hood, watching her with a strange, detached intensity that set warning bells off in her mind. A legilimens.

Being quite powerful in her own rite with much experience, she was able to counter the being's attack on her conscience and resist his discrete, delicate probing, but was unable to break through his mental barrier to reach his mind.

The two were well-matched and neither could make any headway into the others' mind. Suddenly, a high, piercing whistle sounded in the distance. A look of surprise suddenly crossed the legilimens' face and his hold on her mind faltered. That was all Marlene needed.

Taking advantage of the being's slip in concentration, she tore through his remaining barriers and speared into his mind.

_Blood. Death. Fighting. Pain. Slash of claws. Roar of rage. Twisting tunnels. _Must get away, must get away! _The stench of the dead and dying heavy in the air. Rotted flesh wrapping around her mouth and cutting off her scream. Bodies, slashed beyond recognition. A shout of alarm. The gentle caress of a hand upon sun-warmed hair. "I love you." A growl and a pounce. Disjointed images. The world was a blur. Darkness and pain. Excruciating pain. A house engulfed in flames. The wails of the dead and dying. Creatures caught between demon and man slipping out of dark crevices and into the fire light. "There are too many of them! I'll hold them off!" Incredulous green eyes. "That's not how I operate. You should really-" Raging flames. A river of blood. Blinding, mind shattering pain. A high pitched, blood-curdling scream. The scream of a child._

Marlene was suddenly ripped from the nightmarish visions and was thrown back into reality. She swayed slightly at the sudden, unexpected force of the expulsion, the mental assault affecting her physically. She was held upright by her captors, breathing heavily, unable to do anything as her mind reeled from the experience she had just put herself through. She gulped in lungfuls of air. Once her brain and body were both in fully working order, she looked up into the face of the one whose memories she had breached. The eyes that watched her were guarded and hard as flint. She had not been meant to see that. No one was meant to see that. It was not until the being broke her gaze and moved silently away that she realized that the screaming child had been he.

James was beginning to worry. Something was happening. He could feel it all around. The air crackled with energy both magical and emotional. It was highly charged, a bombshell waiting to explode. The world was utterly quiet. He could faintly hear the sound of a bird emitting a high-pitched whistle. That was the only sound he had heard since the strange being had spoken to Sirius. James shivered. He didn't like this. Not at all.


End file.
